Whiskey Lullabye
by x.Mayhem.x
Summary: COMPLETE! Two-shot, Song-fic. Neither one knew how to deal with the pain caused by the heart. Life is short, but this time it was bigger than the strength they had to get up off their knees.
1. Until The Night

**A/N: For the most super-awesome Australian I know. If the chorus to this wasn't on her profile, I never would have thought to use this in a song-fic. But it's a beautifully sad song, and I was just inspired by it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE, otherwise Shannon Moore wouldn't have just been a jobber, and Cena wouldn't be holding gold every other week.**

"**Whiskey Lullabye" is by Brad Paisley with Allison Krauss. Beautiful song; not mine either.**

**-**

**Until The Night...**

_**She put him out  
Like the burning end of a midnight cigarette  
She broke his heart  
He spent his whole life trying to forget**_

"I'm done!" she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks as she threw clothes into her suitcase. "I can't do this anymore Brian!"

Brian took her wrists in his hands, staring intensely down at her. "I'm not letting you go like this, Kaylah. I still love you, and I always will. We can make this work... I know we can."

"You don't get it!" Kaylah cried, pulling her wrists away. "You don't understand... I can't keep waiting for you. Sure, at first it was easy."

"It can still be easy." He interjected quickly, failing to hide the edge of panic in his voice. "I'll get more time off. I'll bring you on the road more. I love you, Kayl. I don't want this..."

She shook her head, walking up to Brian and cupping his face in her hands. "I don't either, baby. But I don't want to come between you and your job. You love wrestling, and I know you love me too. I just... don't want to get hurt."

"Please... I won't hurt you." Brian whispered, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. "I can't picture my life without you."

"Bri... You're making this harder than it has to be." She whispered, pulling away to finish her packing.

He shook his head, stumbling back into the wall. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming as he let himself slide down, his knees bent towards his chest. There were tears in his own eyes as he silently watched his love pack everything she owned into a suitcase. Finally, it got to be too much as he buried his face in his hands.

After a while, he felt a hand run through his hair. He looked up to see Kaylah standing there, a suitcase in her hand, and a bag slung over her shoulder. She was smiling weakly at him, putting down her suitcase as she got down to his level.

"Don't go." Brian stated simply, his voice cracking.

"I'm sorry." Kaylah replied, leaning forward to kiss him. "I do love you, Brian, but I think... I think we need this."

He made no attempt to stop her as she stood back up. He only watched as she left the room, and listened to the front door close as she left. When he heard the tires taking off, only then did he bother to get back up to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall as he made his way from the bedroom, towards the kitchen.

_**We watched him drink his pain away  
A little at a time  
But he never could get drunk enough  
To get her off his mind**_

Brian knew there was always alcohol in the house. Both he and Kaylah liked entertaining people, which meant a well-stocked liquor cabinet.

Sure enough, just off of the kitchen, there was a pantry full of wines, gin, rum, whiskey and a bar fridge full of beer, wine coolers, and Cruisers. Running his fingers through his hair, he picked up a beer from the fridge, drinking down half of it in one gulp.

'_She's gone.'_ He thought, leaning against the fridge. _'I lost her...'_

-

_**Until the night...**_

The beer wasn't working. He could still remember everything about her, from the way her smile warmed a room, to the milk and honey body wash she used, and even the way she looked at him with her green-blue eyes.

"Stronger." He muttered, reaching for the bottle of rum, only to knock it over.

"Fuck!" the Superstar swore, watching as the dark liquid spread from the shattered bottle. Looking back to the shelf, a drunken smirk crossed his lips as his hand wrapped around a large bottle of whiskey.

'_Perfect.'_ He thought, bringing down the bottle, holding it to him as he stumbled from the pantry.

_**He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger  
And finally drank away her memory  
**__**Life is short, but this time it was bigger  
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees**_

Somehow, he managed to make it down to his room, still clinging to the bottle as it was his only tie to sanity. The tears starting up again as he entered the room, holding on tighter to the bottle. She was all over the room, looking at him through hazy eyes, her hair pulled back, or sticking to her face and shoulders, or blowing in the wind. Without a fail, there was a smile playing across her lips, unless she was caught in the middle of kissing him. Even when she was screaming, there was still the hint that she had been smiling just moments before.

Tears spilled down as he pulled himself onto the bed, clumsily trying to open the whiskey at the same time. Brian managed it, and smiled as he drank heartily.

_**They found him with his face down in the pillow  
With a note that said, "I'll love her till I die."  
**_

"Brian!" Paul London shouted, entering the house. "Yo, Bri-man! Spanky! Where the hell are you man?!"

The dark-haired man entered further into the entrance way, feeling slightly uneasy. The place reeked of something he couldn't quite place, and he knew his best friend to keep a tidy living environment.

"Alright, if you are trying to freak me out, it's working!" he shouted, entering into the kitchen first, thinking that maybe Brian was out back. Instead, he noticed that the pantry door was wide open, and could see a few empty beer bottles littering the floor. A few steps closer, and he could see the puddle of alcohol.

'_Brian...'_ Immediately, his heart sank. He knew Brian wasn't much of a drinker, and knew that any major thing could set him off. And the fact that Kaylah had asked him to spend the night with him before catching a flight back to Australia for a little while...

"Brian!" Paul shouted again, tearing through the house to get to the bedroom.

There was nothing in the world that could prepare him for what was in store for him upon entering his best friend's room.

With tears in his eyes, he pulled out his cellphone and called Kaylah, praying that she hadn't left for the airport yet. When he got her voicemail, he left her a message, telling her to get to Brian's now.

After that was out of the way, he tried to steady himself as he called the last number he ever wanted to use with any of his friends.

"_Nine-one-one emergency. Fire, police or ambulance?"_

He closed his eyes. "Ambulance."

"_And what would be your emergency?"_

"M-my friend... he's not responding..."

"_Sir, emergency services are on their way. Can you give me an address?"_

Paul gave them the address, panic evident in his voice. Tears were streaming down his cheeks by the time ambulances and medics arrived, as well as police. He was escorted from the house by an officer, and he let his resistance crumble once he was outside.

It wasn't long before a medic came up to him, looking sombre. There was no need to exchange words, as Paul had long since figured it out.

"Oh God." He muttered, putting his head in his hands; a sign of defeat.

"I'm sorry." The guy said, trying to sound apathetic. "Here."

He handed a piece of paper to Paul before walking back to the door, where they were wheeling out a stretcher, a white sheet covering the body of Brian Kendrick.

Looking at the paper, he let out a choked laugh of a sob.

'_I'll love her till I die...'_

"But you'll watch over her once you're gone, buddy. You loved her too much not to."

-

_**And when we buried him beneath the willow  
The angels sang a whiskey lullabye**_

If he thought finding Brian was hard, then this was excruciating.

'_You shouldn't have to watch your best friend's funeral...'_

Paul wasn't the only one from the wrestling world who stood outside, watching as the casket was lowered into the ground. Beside him stood Kaylah and Mickie James, the former looking like a complete mess. There were others scattered throughout the crowd, but he couldn't help but wonder if they were there because they actually cared, or to put on a facade for the world.

'_They don't know him. They don't understand why he chose this way out. All they care about is their stupid fans, in the publicity. They don't care about him, about the Brian Kendrick he was outside of the ring, outside of this business...'_

He turned abruptly when he heard humming coming from beside him, finding Kaylah with her eyes closed. It wasn't until Mickie joined in with more humming that Paul recognized the tune. He joined along, listening as Mickie started saying the words.

"Amazing grace; how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now, I'm found. Was blind, but now, I see."

Kaylah joined in, with "Twas grace that taught my heart to feel, and grace my fears relieved. How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed."

They stopped abruptly when Kaylah burst into tears, unable to contain them any longer. When the whispers started, Mickie grabbed her friend's hand, while Paul put an arm around her shoulders and lead her away from the cemetery.

_**La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la**_

_**-**_

**Two-shot. I've decided I want this to be a two-shot.**

**Please, let me know what you think.**


	2. Clinging To His Picture For Dear Life

**Disclaimer: "Whiskey Lullabye" is a song by Brad Paisley with Allison Krauss. I do not own anything.**

**-**

**Clinging To His Picture for Dear Life**

_**The rumors flew  
**__**But nobody knew how much she blamed herself**_

"It's not fair to her, Paul!" Mickie shouted, making me cringe. "How would you feel if it was you the world was talking about?"

"It's our job to get talked about!"

Mickie growled. "Not like this! Not when the world is still blaming everything on her, like she poured the stuff down his throat! And even worse, the locker rooms are starting to join in!"

I wanted to go into the other room and shut them up. The bickering, the arguing... It was getting annoying. After the day was done, and the defensive arguments they endured were over, they turned to each other.

Too bad it wasn't for comfort or strength.

"So what do we do with her, Mick? Lock her away with no form of outside contact? Brian would have thrown a fit!" Paul yelled, frustration thick in his voice.

"Would have! Past tense!" By now, there was a certain edge to Mickie's voice. Like she was on the verge of tears. "We did it before, remember? And even though it's been months now, they are still just as vicious. Face it, Paul. We aren't helping Kaylah any."

There was a long pause, and I knew what it meant: defeat.

Mickie was right though. Our relationship hadn't been kept a secret from the wrestling industry, which, of course, meant that the public would have found out soon enough. Nothing is sacred, and with the WWE, lives aren't so private. Injuries, suspensions, scandals, deaths... They are never hard to find on the web. You just need to know where to look.

But it wasn't sites like Wikipedia that revealed the scandals. It was these so-called "Wrestling Communities" that seemed to know everything about our lives, whether you were a wrestler or even barely connected to one.

It was annoying.

"So, what do we do?" Paul finally asked.

I looked over to see movement. Kaylah, who had been on her back, rolled onto her side, her back to the door. It was hard for her, listening to her friends argue, and I knew it was. She had told me before. In fact, there wasn't much she hadn't said that I haven't heard. Still...

_**For years and years  
**__**She tried to hide the whiskey from her breath**_

"I wish they'd just leave me alone." She sighed, closing her eyes. "I love them dearly and all, but I need to get over this my own way."

"I know." I whispered. "I know. But they worry, baby. I worry too. I want to watch you live, not drink it away."

A few tears streamed down her cheeks. I reached out to wipe them away, only to think better of it and put my hand on the bed beside me. "It's so damn hard. They try to help, and I'm thankful. But there are only so many times Mickie can tell Barbie where to go, to leave me alone. And Paul isn't a very big guy, yet he's stood up to Bradshaw and Cena. It pisses me right off. And because they insist I come with them, I hear all this. I hear the others tell me 'It's all your fault Brian's gone', that 'He never deserved whatever pain you caused him'."

"Kaylah... baby, please. Don't blame yourself." I begged. I had actually lost count how many times I told her this. "Would you rather be at home and lonely, left with your own thoughts and demons to fight?"

When there was no answer, I looked over to find that she had finally fallen asleep. I got up, walked around the bed and kneeled before her. Even from a distance, I could smell the reek of alcohol on her breath. It saddened me to see her so down.

"I love you, Kayl." I whispered, gently brushing my lips across her forehead. She shuddered subconsciously, and I smiled softly. "Until the day that I die."

-

_**She finally drank the pain away  
**__**A little at a time  
**__**But she never could get drunk enough  
**__**To get him off her mind**_

She woke up, feeling anything but rested. If anything, she felt worse, like she had been awake for the past three weeks. This could have been the truth, seeing as for three weeks, she had been by herself for the most part. Mickie had set it up for her: she was staying with Elizabeth Carolan, better known as Beth Phoenix, who was a good friend of Mickie's from even before WWE. But the woman still had to work, though she had managed to get a week and a half off.

"How're you doing this morning?" Beth asked, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee.

Kaylah collapsed in a seat across from the older blonde. "I need a drink."

Beth smiled, getting up to fix some coffee. "Kaylah..."

"I know, I know. You're under orders."

With a bit of a sigh, she went into the fridge. "We could always replace the milk with a bit of Bailey's... It's not much..."

"It's fine." Kaylah agreed, resting her forehead in her hands. 'Anything to make me forget him; though, the damn dreams keep happening over and over again.'

She could hear movement in the background, but it sounded so far away as she stared ahead of her...

_Kaylah was outside his house, kneeling in front of his grave, red and white roses laying in front of the wooden cross that bore his name, and the dates of birth and death. She had been crying when he came up to her, the same little half smile lighting up his face. His blue eyes were soft, gentle... loving._

"_Kaylah?"He asked, crouching beside her. "Baby, don't do this."_

_She looked at him, her eyes clouded over. "Do what, Bri? Get over you?"_

"_Drink away your pain. It isn't the best solution for anything."_

_She let out a laugh. "Ha! Really? I thought it worked well enough for you..."_

_Brian sighed, the smile fading. "I never meant –"_

"_Never meant to leave me? Never meant to kill yourself? Never meant to what? Because of you, people talk about _me_. They talk as if I'm not there, as if I don't have feelings or care about what happened to you." She got out before dissolving into tears._

_Instinctively, he pulled her into his arms, sitting cross-legged in the grass with her cradled in his arms. Rocking slightly, he whispered to her like he used to._

"_It's all my fault too." She whispered, trying to compose herself. "I loved you so much, and I left you. I was scared, and I left you, and you..."_

"_Hush." Brian stated firmly, still rocking her. "You left, but I dealt with it in the worst way possible."_

_There was a moment of silence before Kaylah broke it, with "I still love you."_

"_I know." He sighed, kissing the top of her head. "I love you too."_

"Kaylah? Kaylah, you okay?"

She wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep, or just went into daydreaming. "Mmmm. Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Did I...?"

Beth nodded. "For an hour or so. I know how you sleep, and I didn't have the heart to wake you."

Kaylah smiled appreciatively. "Thanks. I needed that."

"I know." She agreed, heating up the coffee. "I've heard you when you sleep."

A faint blush tinted her cheeks, as she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Oh dear Lord..."

Beth laughed, getting the coffee from the microwave. She handed it to Kaylah, just as the phone rang.

"Excuse me a minute." Beth said, moving to get the phone.

"If it's Mickie or Paul, I'm sleeping." Kaylah sighed, grabbing the mug and heading to the living room.

She was getting annoyed with the two of them. Sure, they lost Brian too, and she knew they were hurting. But the way they babied her, hid her away from the rest of the world... For weeks after the funeral, they kept her in Mickie's place. Kept her inside, away from the public, taking away the television set, internet and radio; anything and everything that could give her any connection to the world outside. They left her with a portable DVD player, a Discman hooked up to speakers, and a bookshelf full of books.

And then, they had forbidden her from all hard alcohols and liquors.

All so that she wouldn't drink herself to death like her boyfriend had.

It wasn't long after she was settled on the couch and randomly flipping through television stations, that Beth walked in, looking upset.

"Adam's picking you up around six."

Kaylah looked up at the woman, confused. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes with a huff. "Because I'm needed at Raw, and Mickie threatened Paul to keep you off the road for a bit longer, and since Adam's hurting..."

"I'll go pack." The younger woman huffed, getting up off the couch. "Can't upset my babysitters."

"They worry about you Kaylah."

She never responded as she stormed off to her bedroom, making sure to slam the door in the process. Flipping on some music, she let herself get lost in the music, simultaneously getting lost in her thoughts as she laid on her bed. She knew that they worried about her. She even worried for herself at times; she could swear that there were times she saw him, clear as day, standing off in the corner, just watching, smiling. But if she blinked, or looked away then back quickly... there was nothing there.

But the constant supervision was finally getting to her, and it was then that she decided she was going to do something about it...

_**Until the night...**_

_**She put the bottle to her head and pulled the trigger  
**__**And drank away his memory**_

She got out of her rented car, pulling out a small overnight bag, a blanket, and her latest purchases: a dozen vodka coolers, Caribbean rum, and a good bottle of whiskey. The purchase had been a last minute thing, and had made her use her credit card. It had taken five minutes, and three tries, but she had finally remembered what the access code was.

Still, she had figured if she was going to see her late boyfriend, the guy she still held in her heart, she need courage. 'What better than the liquid kind?'

The blanket was set up in front of the grave, the willow branches tickling her back when she first sat down. Immediately, her throat tightened, and she questioned her decision.

"What am I even going to say to you?" she asked out loud, wiping loose strands of hair from her face. "Hi, how have you been? I've been miserable, thanks for asking. Your best friend there, Paul... He misses you. I think he might be starting to resent me. I never asked him or Mickie to look after me, but I guess after I broke down at your funeral..."

A lump formed in her throat, cutting her off. Tears spilled down her cheeks, as she stared at the cross.

_**Life is short, but this time it was bigger  
**__**Than the strength she had to get up off her knees**_

"We all miss you, Brian. I never... never thought... Nobody is worth this. You are worth it though... you are worth your own life. But what did you solve, baby? You left your problems here, and the people you loved, and the ones who loved you back. Not a day goes by where I don't wonder about us; how great we could have been. We'd still be together, and I'd tell you 'I 

love you' every morning when I get up, and every night before I close my eyes, and whenever I can during the day. In less than two hours, I could turn to you and say... say..."

She couldn't bring herself to say it. Whether it was emotional limitation, or just the fact that she wanted to say it to _him_, she wasn't sure. With a sigh, she reached into her collection of alcohol, pulling out a cooler. Smiling, she opened it, extending the bottle towards the cross.

"I'll save the good stuff until it's time." Kaylah joked before taking a swig of her drink, savouring the taste on her tongue. "We'll have plenty of time."

_**They found her with her face down in her pillow  
**__**Clinging to his picture for dear life**_

This was further than what he got with Brian. It was a sadistic thought, but at least there was hope for her.

Paul was anxious.

Fidgety.

Scared.

And feeling just as helpless as he had eight months ago when he found his best friend after he had a night of wild drinking.

"She'll make it through." Mickie said gently, though she was just as emotional as Paul, if not more. It had been her that Adam called to tell her that there was nobody at Beth's place; that the lights were off.

Looking up, she saw the blonde Canadian pacing, running his fingers habitually through his hair, his eyes red and puffy. He was upset too. He had been the closest to the hospital when they had gotten the call. When he had called to put in a missing person alert, Adam had given the county police officers Mickie's cell number. So it was her cell they called when they were notified as a person who might fit that description was brought into the Tampa General Hospital.

And since both Mickie and Paul were in the next state at the time, it was quicker and easier for Adam to get there.

Now, the three of them were waiting, wishing and praying that Kaylah would make it through.

"This is stupid." Adam muttered, finally taking a seat. "It's been hours. There has to be something. Anything."

Paul was about to answer when a doctor, still in his scrubs, came out. The dark-haired Superstar was far from fond of the look on the man's face, and subsequently buried his face in his hands.

"I'm presuming that you three are with Ms. Jameson?"

"Yeah." Adam was the one who decided to respond. "How's she doing?"

The doctor shook his head. "She's barely hanging on. There was severe damage done to her body from alcohol consumption, and from there on afterwards, her injuries get worse. There is little brain activity registering, and we have her hooked up to life support, but I highly doubt that she'll last twenty-four hours. Even with the support."

There was collective silence as the information sank in.

They were going to lose Kaylah.

_**They laid her next to him beneath the willow  
**__**While the angels sang a whiskey lullabye**_

It was hard watching her... well, the empty, broken shell of her... as they took her off life support. I was livid. Whoever decided that she should die was going to feel my wrath.

Doctors were never fully right. Had she stayed on life support, she would have had a thirty-three percent chance of making it through. Then she would have wizened up, and she could have gone on with her life.

I would have been there the entire way.

I loved her that damn much.

Instead, I watched as her heart rate dropped before completely flat lining.

I watched as they wrote the time of death on a chart on a clipboard.

Brought the sheet up over her sleeping body.

The days leading up to the funeral were excruciatingly long. They were made longer by the fact that I couldn't be there to help with preparations, because there were other matters that needed to be dealt with beforehand.

I missed the funeral part anyway. I managed to get there in time to see them lower the casket down next to the other plot, dirt shovelled on top. Numbness shot through me, the dawning of how real this whole thing was.

She was dead.

Gone forever.

People started leaving the moment she was in the ground, not even waiting for the first shovel full of dirt to hit the casket. By the time it was filled, only a handful of people stood there.

The Hardy brothers, Matt and Jeff, with Shannon Moore and Gregory Helms.

Paul, Mickie, Adam and Beth.

And me.

_**La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la**_

They, too, left. Tears along their cheeks, Mickie's, Shannon's, Beth's and Paul's eyes all red and puffy. Adam and Matt walked side by side, the past forgotten for the time being as they left this place of mourning. Gregory and Jeff followed behind, quiet, sombre...

And I only walked closer to the crosses, running my fingers along Kaylah's.

_**La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la**_

Slight movement caught my eye, and I turned to see her standing there.

We both just stood there, motionless.

_**La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la**_

I didn't know what to do.

What I could do.

With a sigh, I closed my eyes, letting a smile cross my lips. Opening my eyes back up, I saw a smile on her face too as she ran at me. My arms enveloped her, as I held her to me. I couldn't resist kissing her temple as my head leaned against hers.

"I missed you." I whispered, playing with her hair.

"I missed you too."

_**La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la**_

She pulled away from me a bit, enough to brush a strand of hair from my eyes. It fell back anyway, causing her to chuckle as she pecked my lips.

"Still the same Brian I knew." She whispered.

I smiled wider, if it was possible. "And you're still my Kaylah."

Kaylah pulled away, taking my hand in hers. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" I asked, following her lead.

She laughed gently. "We haven't seen each other in months. I believe that means we have some catching up to do."

"And we have forever to spend doing it."

-

**Wow. That turned out longer than expected. Oh well. **

**For Kaylah-bean, from Missy.**

**And thank you to JeffHardyFan02 for reviewing.**


End file.
